


We’re Not Friends

by waywardjoy (CNK80Q3demoneyes)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, This will give you cavities or diabetes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:15:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27187816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CNK80Q3demoneyes/pseuds/waywardjoy
Summary: Dean’s inner monologue about his feelings for the reader.Inspired by song of same name, by Ingrid Andress
Relationships: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	We’re Not Friends

Sitting here, I can’t help looking back over the years of all the things I've always meant to say. So many times, through immense fears, of all of the nights I tried to tell you. The words, they’ve never been right. 

We've been lying to ourselves. Acting like we're something else. How'd we get in this masquerade?  
There's a secret in your eyes. It's the same one that's in mine. I am so tired of being this way.

Call it what you want, but it won't change a thing.   
Because at the end of the day, we’re a kiss at 2am that tastes like whiskey. We're a ride home in the dark with our fingers intertwined. We’re long looks across the library table. We keep on trying to pretend, but you and me, we gotta admit, we’re not friends. 

I know you remember that first night. I asked if you would wanna dance. You made me laugh in the neon light, with your two left feet telling me you can't. 

Now, you’re the healing hands where it used to hurt. You’re the sunshine after a real bad storm. You’re all the little things I thought wouldn’t mean everything to me. 

Friends are something that we were. Before you were sleeping in my shirt. But darlin, we're past that now. Friends don't do the things we do. Friends don't use the words we use. Hell, friends could just hang out. We’re soft words and whispers in the dark. We're an extra set of clothes on the bedroom floor. I see you all the time, but still, I need to see you more. 

The smell of your shampoo and your body heat wrapped in my arms feel like home. Everytime I wake up and you’re still there, I just take a moment and stare. It makes every heartache I’ve been given worth it. 

Why are the things that I want to say not coming out right? I'm tripping on words. You got my head spinning and I don't know where to go from here.

Now you’re standing in front of me. Nothing but my favorite Zeppelin T on. “Come to bed, Dean.” Your fingers touch mine. Take the whiskey from my hand. Pull me from the chair. 

No, we're not friends.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks y’all for reading!!


End file.
